


Linger After

by Warpendragn



Series: Frisk Won't Stop [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Children, Dreams and Nightmares, EVEN TERRIFYING POSSESSED DOLLS OK, F/F, F/M, FRISK IS NOSY AND JUST WANTS EVERYONE TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Harm to Children, M/M, Talking To Dead People, WHO WANTS TO SEE SANS FIGHT DEAD CHILDREN, focused on monsters and the way human souls carry on after death, mostly platonic friendship and parental friendship, very light shipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpendragn/pseuds/Warpendragn
Summary: Monsters need jobs, too. Even dangerous jobs with creepy animal side-shows. Sans says, with a wink, That's when things got hairy.





	1. Technically Not Fast Food

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short first chapter to show a friend. I do want to continue it but be aware there is no set updating schedule. Most plot elements I already have planned out, but haven't written them.

Monsters welcome. 

That's the tagline that drew his eyes to the ad, middle of the second page in the business section of his newspaper. The ad below it was already soaking up the coffee ring, a side helping of breakfast eggs. 

How rude, Felix thought, brows scrunched and frowning around the cigarette butt between his teeth. Sure, most places still had hang-ups about monsters, unofficially, but was it supposed to be a good thing, next to the small, somewhat pixelated image of a teddy bear in a bow tie? He doesn't want to imagine the uniform; his orange tail twitches at the thought before starting again the slow, contemplative _swish, swish_ motion behind his fold-out chair.  
He looked again, squinting. A pizza joint. His groan is out before he even reads the description. He doesn't even bother to read the description; picks up the phone and dials. It's only until his acting career takes off, anyway. Just like the last one. 

He goes in to the phone call expecting the worst. Puts on the Helpful Service Employee voice that creeps out his friends.  
"Hello, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, the magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. How can I help you today?"  
Aw, damn, he thinks. That was some skills. Phonegal almost sounds believable. "I'm calling about the job in the paper."  
"Oh! Let me get the manager." 

 

Okay, the mascots really freak him out. They are bigger in person, the bird's kinda hot. There's free balloons held by a little guy dressed like an Animal Crossing scrub.  
Screaming kids run passed the stage, tired guardians dragging after them. The puppets sway from side to side, bob up and down. In the minutes between music they bend down, pat heads, accept hugs, speak in very old laugh tracks. Then the song starts again; the machines start to bob.  
No wonder the humans were impressed by Metaton. 

In the twenty minutes of waiting before the interview, he has the songs stuck in his brain. It helps dig the soul crushing reality into his smile. 

The manager looks disturbingly thrilled to see him in person.  
"You're hired," is the first thing the manager says immediately.  
"Great!" he manages. "I won't let you down! I've never made pizza before but--"  
"It's security," the manager says, hand waves through the air as if that makes the cloying oily smell in the air any better. (It does.) "Inside only, desk job. Just want to, uh..." Here he pauses, clears his throat. "Make sure teenagers don't break in... you know... get up to anything. Six hour shift."  
That's... actually not that bad. A big bad monster to scare the trouble making humans. He could do that. Practice his hissing.  
No customers, the manager goes on. Night shift. Lots of alone time. He could smoke on duty. Bad hours: don't expect any overtime. Minimum wage. He wouldn't have to clean toilets or floors. Just sit at a desk, watch the cameras.  
"And call the police if anything weird happens. Gotcha."  
The manager smiles, just a bit too wide. "Exactly."


	2. Get to Know Your Teammate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, coworkers are jerks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is taking long than I would prefer to write, but I want to finish it--I have the outline friend approved. Props to my broski Beastpaws on tumblr for suggestions and feedback. And speaking of which, any naming and background character suggestions are appreciated; Variety is spice, especially if industry standards require name tags.

He can't even call it a security booth, placed in the center hall like it was. And nowhere near the exits.   
"There's no door," he notes aloud. Puts on his best smile, looks at the manager.   
The second shift manager crosses his arms, his mouth quirked at the corner, and shrugs. His badge reads, Javier. He looks clammy despite the overly warm room. The small fan sits directly on the security desk, making a rapid, if uneven, _tick tick tick_ noise. "Remodeling," he offers. 

Avoiding the manager's stare--yeah that's comfortable, totally not at odds with "Monsters Welcome"--he gets a look at the room itself. It's oddly large, he thinks. Papers, news articles, are tacked to the walls in every available space--nothing framed. It screams "stalker basement" to him, but he wasn't getting paid to decorate. (But they really should fire whoever did get paid for it.) 

"There's no vent covers."   
"Haven't installed them yet. The building's old. Have to special order them."   
"Air conditioning?" He asks. Knows there isn't; the air is stale.   
The manager grunted in the negative. "You'll get used to it." His tone says, you definitely will not. "You got good night vision?"   
Felix blinks. "Excuse me?"   
The manager points to his own eyes. Felix appreciates the eye bags on a sympathetic level. "You know, being a cat monster. Gotta come in handy, right?"   
He looks away before the smile can look more forced. "Sure."  
"Because the lights go out," comes after a pause--hurried, realizing. "The lights are off during your shift. The last guy was pretty freaked out by the hallway being dark." 

The manager falls quiet, so Felix moves toward the desk. See what else was broken.   
The video feeds are grainy at best, disabled at worst. There's audio; why humans want audio from their bathrooms he didn't want to know. (He remembers, "Teenagers... you know...") Some old, dried rings from mugs make patchworks across the cheap wood. Figurines of the perky mascots. Cute. Stacks of paperwork that he hopes weren't his job, now. 

He perked his ears, tail twitches. He leans in to look closer, but the manager interrupts, "Ready to get your uniform?" This interview is during business hours, after all, and he is needed elsewhere. There will be plenty of time to familiarize after the paperwork is complete.   
"Yeah. Lead the way." 

 

\-------------------- 

 

Felix returns an hour before his shift. It's an hour after closing, and another tired min-wage worker unlocks the door for him. Different than phone gal; skinny, dark brown. The badge reads Ishmael.   
"New guy?"   
"Yeah."   
He nods, doesn't stick around to exchange names. Goes back to a mop. It's been a long Monday.   
Felix looks over the guy's uniform; adjusts his own unconsciously. It's unisex, cuffed and collared. Stuffy. Clashes horribly with his orange fur. The tie is black, and his nametag is a temporary sticker.   
He jerks a thumb toward the hall. "I'm gonna..."   
"Right." He gets a second nod.

He doesn't yet know the building layout, but knows it's the right hall, far end. He peeks at the other rooms, empty, a few lights already off as he passes. Another human--short, bright red hair--is dragging a huge "Happy 7th Birthday!" banner, stuffing it in a putrid trash cart. This one sees him, stares, tries to cover it with a wave.   
Felix returns it lightly; reminds himself to be sociable for another...   
He's looking at his watch as he nears the back room. When he looks up he jumps, mental timer freezes. He may have swallowed an inappropriate word. 

Oh my god. There's a bear head on the chair. Why is there a bear head in the chair? 

It stares at him; or, would, if what is definitely supposed to be eye sockets weren't empty black pits. He stares back, too long, before making his way to the desk. Was the security room the break room, too? Someone must've left it here by accident. (Or to mess with him. Probably one of the girls...)  
"You're not supposed to be here," he tells it. Yeah, show it who's boss. He picks it up, hefts it in both hands, surprised by the weight. Soft, fake fur, button nose, rosy cheeks and a teddy bear muzzle. He gives it a hard look. Better to memorize it now, so he can find out who wears it. (Also, he can better berate himself at 4am when he stumbles across it a second time.)  
The empty eyes are too wide. Still godawful creepy. 

"It's Freddie."   
Felix jumps, spins to the entryway with the head.   
A very broad human stands there, shoulders hunched. Dark hair, pale. His eyes dart from the Fred Head to Felix, reaches out and takes it--not a requesting tug. He puts it on, and stares at him a moment, shadowed eyes through the mask.   
"Can you wear it?" he asks.   
"Uh," Felix manages.   
"'Cause of your ears," he adds, lifting the Fred head off.   
"UH," Felix says again, hopes the tone gives the guy a clue, and gets a quick look over as he moves into the room.   
The human's wearing the same uniform, collared, cuffed. Suffocating. He doesn't have a name tag. He sets the head onto the desk, takes a moment again before turning around. Leans back against it with both hands but looks anything but comfortable. There's some reason he's here, and he's not saying it.   
Felix weighs the options; be the one to break the building silence, or get this weirdo out of his space.   
The silence drags on. The noise behind them drops. More rooms are clean, the attendant moving on.  
He twitches in time with the human's shifty eyes, forces his hand into a pocket to look cooler. the cigarette pack crinkles--not long to wait now.   
It hits him that the shiftiness is deliberate. Looking through him, to both sides, and back. It's a pattern. Habit. His hand slides to settle on top of the mask.   
The hall begins to echo with electric _cthunk_ noises, the shift manager continues his closing procedure; a countdown as one by one, the cleaned rooms darken.

_Cthunk._

Felix caves afer only a minute. "My shift is going to start."   
The human focuses again, doesn't blink. He straightens, the hand leaves Fred and goes to his belt. There's several empty loops, and one giant flashlight. It is, apparently, also part of the uniform. "I know." A beat. The belt unclasps, the soft clack of the belt on the desk makes Felix twitch. The human smiles suddenly; he's not very good at it. "Wanted to... introduce you. To Freddy."   
His nose wrinkled in distaste, the short whiskers twitch. "Why does the night guard need a costume head?" This sounded more like a bad hazing ritual than an introduction. 

_Cthunk._

"It's, uh..." the human starts, as if to explain himself. He gives up. Please, no more silences. "It's mentioned in the training tapes."   
"Training tapes?" Felix echoes. No one mentioned tapes.   
"One of the first guys recorded them." The human swings his arms a moment, loosening--at some point, he'd become tense. He moves back toward the security entryway. "Night shift starts in twenty. You should really get to know Fred. You'll be working together, after all."   
"What does THAT mean?" Felix asks, louder. It riles him. Look at this weirdo, trying to sound spooky. (Sure, he was creeped, but not for the reasons this guy was after.)  
The human doesn't reply, just heads down the long, wide hallway. "I'll tell the boss you're all set," he says instead, as the hall light goes out. 

_Cthunk._

Felix hears the echo as the front doors open, _peh-chak_ , a single loud laugh from one of the mid-shift crew as they head outside. There is only the dim, off-white of the security light near the exit, around the corner. The tallest human, the closing manager, blocks it, peaks around at him. Waits a moment.   
Oh, right. Weird guy said he'd tell the boss that security was ready.   
He goes to the desk, picks up the belt--surprisingly heavy. It hooks together easily. He resolutely ignores the head as he checks the cameras. A sticky note still sits on the desk: a phone number, and control codes for the cameras, left by management. He raises a thumbs up to the human down the hallway.   
He receives one in return, then the last few sounds of the heavy glass doors shutting, _peh-chak_ ; finally the lock, old and scraping, louder than it should be in the newly deep silence.   
He's alone. 

"Finally," he breathes.   
It isn't moments before his cigarette pack is out, tapping free the first of several for the night, as he drops himself down into the wheeled office chair. It feels the way it looks: cheap, worn in, stained. He'd had worse. He checks the monitor controls, gives them each a tap.   
Yeah, creepier in the dark.   
"And, on the clock...." He looks at the monitor, finds the small digits. It ticks the first digit to a new day. "Now."   
The phone rings. He jumps, and then sighs. Customers always call after hours. Well, they didn't hire him to answer the phone, did they? He lets it ring into voicemail, goes back to the cameras. Weird: there's air vent cameras. And lights. Well, that's not shady at all. (What kinds of rats did they have in this place? ...Come on, he's been in this industry a while; EVERYONE has rats.)   
"Hello! Hello hello… Uh..." The voice is high pitched, crackles. The phone lines sound older than the building. The voice continues, "Hello and welcome to your new summer job at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza! Uh, I’m hear to talk you through some of the things you can expect to see during your first week here..."   
Oh, right. Training phone calls. He leans back, lets the chair squeal, makes himself comfortable. He tunes in and out of the instructions.   
"They even let them walk around during the day!" A laugh. "Isn’t that neat?"   
He rolls his eyes, expression pinches in distaste. "What a tool," he snarks to nobody. Years of experience in fast food lets him pick out the key words. He mouths them. ("Detect a predator"? Good on you.)   
"There’s a music box over by the prize counter, and it’s rigged to be wound up remotely. So every once in a while, switch over to the prize counter video feed, and wind it up for a few seconds. It doesn’t seem to affect all of the animatronics... But it does affect... One of them..."   
"Music box?" he mouths, and taps through the cameras. Because, yeah, that didn't sound foreboding as hell. Sure enough, a special tab tells him to wind the box. "So, I keep you wound, and the walking plushies leave me alone?" He smirks, and imagines what his job underground would be like if that worked on his Monster boss. A crayon-art skit plays: a noodle-armed box making BLAH BLAH BLAH noises as the devilishly handsome cat monster employee; Felix holds up a remote, taps the red button; tinkling notes play from the back room, and the box wheels himself after it, arms still waving and BLAH BLAH BLAHs quieting; the cat takes a bow--   
"...Endoskeleton without a costume on, and wanting to stuff you into a suit..."   
He sits up. "Wait, what?" Felix starts scrolling through the cameras at a much quicker pace this time. Everything looks... what even passes for normal with an introduction like that?   
"So hey!" the voice continues, chipper. "We’ve given you... An empty Freddy Fazbear head! Problem solved!"   
"That's not how problem solving works!" he argues. He jumps a little; the rabbit isn't on stage. An alert beeps: he clicks to wind the music box. He gives a long look to the mascot head, still turned to the entryway.   
Beyond it, there's a shadow in the hall.   
"You can put it on any time, and leave it on for as long as you want," the voice reminds. "Eventually, anything that wandered in, will wander back out."   
Oh my god, I'm gonna have to try it, he thinks. He grabs the head; he balks. His pride won't allow it.   
What pride? He snorts sarcastically. He lifts it, ears twitch in discomfort as the brushed satin nears them.   
"Well I think that’s it, uh, you should be golden!" the phone guy finishes. Gives his best. "Have a good night, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow!"   
The background static stops. Small noises now heard in the quiet.   
There's a giggle down the hall. 

 

...Wait. 

 

"Awright, that's it!" He forces the head back down to the desk with a hollow _thup._   
The figure in the hall cocks its head.   
Felix steps forward, and points at the head. "I knew this was a joke! No one is going to put that stupid head on, except some jerks who think it's funny to haze the new guy!"   
The figure steps closer. The blue rabbit.   
Felix smirks, shows off his (mostly human-looking) teeth around his cigarette. He scoffs. "Buddy, I'm a monster. Take another step, and I'll show you how _we_ throw down."   
The (human inside the) rabbit stares back for a (uneasy, too long stretched) moment. Then they turn, and walk to the rightmost party room.   
Felix smirks wider, crosses his arms. "Yeah, that's what I--"   
"Hi." 

He shrieks.


End file.
